


A Brighter Day

by FunkyinFishnet



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 10:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2305745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting a second concussion so soon after his first could mean the end of Corey Graves’ WWE wrestling career. He’s brooding about it when Bayley sits down next to him and offers a different attitude and an unexpected quiet sort of hope that he hadn’t been expecting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Brighter Day

 

 

Everybody backstage was treating him with fucking stupid amounts of delicacy. Corey Graves started to shake his head but then winced and stopped. This concussion wasn't as bad as his first one but still, it was his second concussion in as many months and fuck, it wasn't good. He was becoming a liability and liabilities got pink slips. He'd seen it happen before; the WWE wasn't known for employing injury-prone wrestlers, particularly when those injuries were concussions.

 

Fuck.

 

He’d worked so hard for so long to get to the WWE. He wasn’t an idiot though, if a doctor told him it was too dangerous for him to wrestle then he’d hang up his boots but that was the only way he’d leave the business. If the WWE dropped him due to injury, he could jump back into the independent circuit; there were plenty of people out there who liked what he did. And he always had his piercing work too. Still, here he was in the WWE, a former NXT Tag Team Champion, on the cusp of actually making the big leagues and it was being fucking pulled away from him. He clenched his fists, he could fucking  _feel_ it slipping away.

 

Someone sat down beside him. He didn’t look at them; so that they'd get the message and leave him alone. They didn’t.

 

Corey looked up and found himself face to face with Bayley. She was decked out in her wrestling gear, a jacket zipped-up over it. Her headband was adorned with a silver bow and her smile was surprisingly soft compared to the mile-wide grin she usually wore. God, Corey wasn’t ever in a place to deal with Bayley’s fulsome energy and hug obsession. What was she doing here anyway?

 

He raised his eyebrows pointedly and Bayley nudged him gently. “You look sad.”

 

Corey barked out a rough disbelieving laugh. Sad, yeah, that was one way to put it.

 

“Trouble at the top,” he told her, his words deadpan.

 

Bayley frowned and her gaze skittered across his head. Huh, she’d actually understood what he’d meant rather than taking him literally. Sadly, she didn’t move away though. Instead she playfully knocked one of her feet against his and let out a sigh.

 

“That must hurt a lot.”

 

Corey lifted his shoulders briefly. “It doesn’t tickle.”

 

He regretted it the moment he said it because he knew what Bayley’s reaction would be. But Bayley just laughed and somehow resisted the urge to actually tickle him in response. Weirder and weirder. Corey eyed her intently, what the fuck was going on? Was his mind, or more accurately his sore head, playing tricks on him?

 

“Have you had lots of physical and cognitive rest?”

 

Corey blinked, no, Bayley really had just said that. She was looking at him expectantly, her expression softening into a smile as she noticed the way he was staring. She nudged his foot again, a little harder this time.

 

“I looked out for a couple of my road buddies when they were getting treatment for concussions.”

 

Corey forgot sometimes that Bayley had wrestled before walking into the WWE. She was good enough in the ring, she’d clearly been trained well, it was just her nauseatingly-bouncy attitude. It seemed completely WWE grown, like it was exactly what they liked to see. But, he had to remind himself sometimes, that attitude was all Bayley. From what he’d heard, she’d been successful on the indies which had brought her to the attention of the WWE, unsurprising considering how well she could do power moves like the belly-to-back suplex she frequently favored. She was a different flavor of Diva, normally he'd say that the WWE would be keen to change that, ironing out the bits of Bayley that didn’t fit with their glossy image but it was probably her painfully-bright delight that had caught a lot of their attention in the first place. They hadn't changed a thing about her so far.

 

“So are you running drills yet?”

 

Corey very slowly shook his head. “Next week.”

 

“But you can come here to the Performance Center already. That’s great.”

 

It was progress, though it didn’t feel like much, but it was something. Bayley was right, something else Corey hadn’t expected. She hadn’t tried to hug him once, her thigh was pressed against his but that felt okay. The warmth was good. Corey was enjoying wearing his grungy old shorts and band shirt, the WWE had a strict dress-code for shows. He looked good in a suit but it sucked that he had to wear one whether he felt like it or not. So much of this business was about appearance, especially in the WWE. Corey had always worn whatever before. It was a whole different ballgame now.

 

He didn’t think he’d ever seen Bayley in a dress. Where the fuck had that thought come from?

 

“Have you got enough paracetamol? I have some in my bag.”

 

Corey patted his jacket pocket. “I’m good.”

 

Bayley’s smile slanted and Corey’s gaze was drawn sharply to her face. Her eyes were sparkling as her curled fingers brushed his leg almost like a punch. For some reason she didn’t giggle or bubble over with enthusiastic words like he expected, in fact she didn’t say anything for a while. Whatever she wasn’t saying was hidden behind her bitten-down bottom lip. He focused on that for a bit too.

 

Bayley pinked but her words surged forward again at last “I can help.”

 

Corey’s immediate response was  _fuck, no_ because it was bad enough around here already with people treating him like he was on his last legs. But his brain skidded to a halt because Bayley hadn’t treated him like that. Sure, she’d been freakishly quiet compared to how she usually behaved but she hadn’t looked at him like he was going to fall over, she’d actually asked sensible questions and had given him space and peace and quiet in between. Frankly, that was all he needed. More than one doctor had mentioned how useful for recovery it could be to have somebody around when dealing with the aftermath of a concussion.

 

When he looked over at Bayley again, she was playing with a bright orange set of juggling balls. Where the fuck had she plucked them from? She was tossing them up into the air and catching them amid a complex series of hand movements. She was smiling though, her mouth open as she concentrated, her eyes bright with laughter. Corey took a photo with his cellphone and then just watched her for a bit.

 

Of course Bayley juggled. What other skills nestled beneath her skin? What other smarts? He actually wanted to know.

 

It wasn’t like he had much else to do, he couldn’t listen to the music he loved and he couldn’t do any piercing for a while yet either. He could be out of a job soon.

 

He must have said that aloud because Bayley shook her head and changed the way she was juggling.

 

“They’ll totally keep you on. Maybe as a trainer or in the marketing department, you have that degree, right? They’ll want to keep hold of you, they always know a good thing when they see it.”

 

Bayley knew a lot about him, the kind of stuff that he didn’t tell people. She was known for her fangirling so it wasn’t that much of a surprise but still, it was unnerving. But Bayley didn’t rattle off any more facts about him or squeal or try to hug him. She just kept juggling, her mouth soft and her eyes bright. Corey couldn’t stop watching her. Her frame was powerful and toned, so different to the sleek glossiness that most WWE Divas strived for. Her hair was pulled up into its usual side ponytail. She was unapologetically Bayley and she was proving successful and was fucking adored by the fans.

 

She wasn’t his usual type either. Fuck. He would have shaken his head hard but stopped himself just in time. Bayley lit up happily and added another ball to the ones that she was currently easily keeping up the air.

 

Would the WWE keep him on if he couldn’t wrestle for them? Would he want to stay here, so close to his dream but also so painfully far from it? He had time to think about it.

 

He accept Bayley's offer but the next day when he turned up at the Center, she was waiting for him, carrying a couple of protein shakes, one of which she gave to him. It wasn’t the flavor he usually went for but he didn’t spit it out. He’d tasted worst.

 

Bayley commented that she’d wished she’d brought her pogo stick with her. Corey’s expression made her laugh and list firmly against him. He didn’t tell her to leave.

 

_-the end_


End file.
